


Home

by bodtany



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Military, Drabble, M/M, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-26
Updated: 2014-09-26
Packaged: 2018-02-18 19:59:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2360408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bodtany/pseuds/bodtany
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco returns home after months of fighting overseas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home

**Author's Note:**

> So...I'm not sure why, but after a month of writer's block, I suddenly crafted this at record speeds. 
> 
> The theme was home, could you tell?
> 
> Inspired by this gorgeous work of art:
> 
> http://lazy-afternooner.tumblr.com/post/88740820006/sorry-all-i-could-think-of-was-military-au

His name bubbled in my throat, rising, rising, but all I could manage to push out was a choked whimper as I flung myself towards Marco.

He was home. He was safe.

Marco dropped his duffle bag and practically lifted me from the ground when we collided, mumbling, "My Jean, oh, god, Jean..." Tears sprang to my eyes, the world growing fuzzy as my fears melted away. Here he was, in the flesh instead of beaming at me through a grainy Skype image. Happy, and healthy, and _home __._

"How...how are you?" I dragged myself from Marco's embrace only to look him in the eyes. I missed those eyes. "Are you tired? Hungry?" Desperately, I searched his face for an ounce of worry or doubt-- anything that I could erase to make this moment perfect. He seemed inexplicably fine. 

_Of course he does,_ I reminded myself, _he's home now_. 

Marco's months overseas had turned me into a bit of a mess. It was like everything was suspended in the air, and I could do nothing but cling to news programs helplessly, knowing he could disapper from my life at any moment. Bombing after bombing, raid after raid, everything was so uncertain. Sometimes I purposely avoided televisions and computers, because I couldn't bear to face the fact that one day, Marco might come home in a box. Reruns of his telling me he wanted to join the army, of our parting in the airport, of my learning that two of his closest friends had gone MIA in their last mission-- it all danced through my mind at night. 

But life had to go on. It always goes on. So I said goodbye to Marco's picture on my way to work, and while he was off fighting evil in unknown lands, I sat at my desk and waited for him to come home. 

Home. 

And here we were, back on solid ground, back at home in each other's arms. It was unbelievable. So surreal and fantastic I felt dizzy. Tears were streaming down my face by now; I swiped at them with the heel of my palm. 

"C'mon," Marco urged, hoisting his camouflage bag over one arm and wrapping the other around me. As I wrapped my arm loosely around his waist, he ducked to plant a kiss to my temple. I sighed contentedly. "Let's go home." 


End file.
